You Found Me
by Dark Satirist
Summary: The day Lucifer rose was the day Sam disappeared. Weeks later, Dean and Castiel find him in an abandoned town, injured and unconscious and no memory whatsoever as to what happened. They must now learn how to be brothers again in the face of certain death.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title. _

_Author's Note: I wrote this kind of as an alternate ending to season 4 where Ruby didn't die... mostly because I wanted a little bit more fitting end to her then what was on the show. So, Ruby is still alive (for now) in this story. _

_Author's Note 2: This story is another one I dug out of the backlog of stories I have written. Since the last one had a lot of success, I figured I might as well try this one out as well. Hope you all enjoy it!_

_Summary: The day Lucifer rose was the day Sam disappeared. Weeks later, Dean and Castiel find him in an abandoned town, injured and unconscious and no memory whatsoever as to what happened. With Dean's help, the brothers begin to uncover what really happened to Sam and learn how to become brothers again._

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 1**

It was close to midnight. Rain was falling steadily from the pitch black sky, illuminated by random flashes of lightning. Thunder rumbled and somewhere in the distance a bell tolled.

A dark figure walked across the muddy streets. He wore a water-proof leather jacket, a pair of torn jeans, muddy boots, and a gold amulet around his neck that was noticeable only in the lightning flashes.

Another figure walked beside him. This person was shorter, dressed in a trench coat and a suit with a loose tie that looked completely out of place in the desolate landscape.

"Are you sure this is where he is?" the first person asked roughly. His voice was hoarse and anxious.

"This is where his last known location was," the second person said. "Whether he still is here or not, we will find out."

The first person looked annoyed as he sloshed on through the muddy street. Another flash of lightning lit up the area, giving the two men a chance to see their surroundings clearly. The first man stopped and inhaled sharply as his green eyes landed on a still form lying on a piece of debris on the side of the road.

"Cass," the man said his voice a near whisper. It was spiked with fear.

"He is alive," the second said carefully. "But only just."

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The rain began to slack off as the first man knelt down beside the fallen.

"God, Sammy," he whispered as he placed his hand on the fallen's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"We should get him to the safe house," the second said. "We can care for him more there."

The first man agreed, shrugging off the second's attempt at helping him pick up the fallen.

"I've got him," he said roughly. "He's my brother. I've got him."

The second man nodded in agreement as the first man gingerly pulled the fallen into his arms and struggled to stand. It was difficult; the fallen was three inches taller and much heavier then the first. But somehow, almost too easily, the first man was able to pick up the fallen.

"Let's go," the second man said. "I fear we don't have much time."

Bobby was woken up late at night by the shrill ringing of the telephone. Grumbling to himself for falling asleep, he made a mad dash from the living room table he had fallen asleep at to the kitchen to grab the phone before it reached his answering machine. He knew exactly who it was and wasn't disappointed to hear Dean Winchester's terrified voice on the other end of the line.

"We found him," was the only discernible thing that Bobby could hear amidst the constant thunder and rain in the background.

Bobby waited for a few more seconds for the line to go completely dead before he put the phone back in its cradle. He began picking up papers from where he had strewn them across the floor in anger only a few days before.

"I wouldn't be here when he gets back if I were you," he said to the person who was now standing directly behind him. Lightning flashed across the open window pane, illuminating Ruby's dark features.

"I want to make sure he's okay," Ruby protested. "I think I have that right."

"You don't have any right," Bobby corrected her as he placed the last paper on his desk and picked up the demonic knife that Dean had left days earlier. "Not after everything you've caused."

"I was only trying to help," Ruby said. "So sue me."

"I'm going to do a lot more then that," Bobby said turning to face the demon. "The only regret I have is that Dean isn't here to do this himself."

He raised the knife and was about to plunge it into her chest when the front door banged open. Bobby turned around and Ruby vanished from sight.

Castiel entered first, trench coat soaking wet and dripping. He strode purposefully into the room. He was followed by a misshapen person who was limping. With a start, Bobby recognized the person as Dean, who was carrying a limp Sam in his arms.

"Help me get him to the couch," Dean yelled gruffly.

Bobby was frozen for a moment, staring in shock at the too pale face of Sam Winchester that was heightened by his soaked, dark hair. A dark red line ran from his left temple to his lip, one that was still dripping blood. He looked, in all respects, dead.

"Bobby!" Dean shouted.

Bobby blinked before springing into action. He grabbed the first aid kit from the bookshelf as Castiel left the room. Dean managed to get Sam to the couch by himself before totally collapsing to his knees.

"What happened?" Bobby asked as the angel returned with a couple of blankets and towels.

"I don't know," Dean admitted as he gently started pulling off Sam's wet clothes. "We found him like this about ten miles from here. The town was completely destroyed."

"That's over a thousand miles from where Lucifer rose!" Bobby nearly shouted. "How the… how did he end up there?"

"I don't know," Dean said again as he cut off Sam's soaked button-down shirt. It was torn and mutilated beyond repair.

"Damn it," Bobby swore as he caught sight of the first of Sam's injuries. There was a huge gash across the center of his chest that looked as though an animal had ripped him open. There was another one stretching from his hip to his ribcage, across his stomach. They were both bleeding heavily.

"Hellhounds," Castiel said gravely.

Dean's face visibly paled as he stumbled to his feet. Bobby reached over and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"He's going to be okay," he said. "He's alive, Dean. He's still fighting. Now come on. Help me get these jeans off."

"Be careful of his leg," Dean said as Bobby reached down and brushed his hand along the twisted limb. Even unconscious and at the point of death, Sam whimpered and thrashed weakly at the contact.

"Holy shit," Bobby said worriedly. He wondered what had happened to the kid and felt extremely guilty. He had been part of the reason why Sam had left. If he hadn't gone along with Dean's plan…

"Now is not the time for blaming yourself," Castiel said from behind them, making Bobby start in surprise. He had forgotten the angel was still there. "You need to concentrate on saving him. We cannot win this war without him."

"Can't you do anything to save him?" Dean asked. "Like you did for Jimmy?"

"I was not able to save my host, except by angelic possession," Castiel said. "Sam's injuries are well beyond my healing abilities."

"Some help you are," Dean grumbled. He sighed.

"On three, help me lift him up," Bobby said. "One. Two. Three."

With a loud moan on Sam's part and some cursing on Dean and Bobby's, they managed to get the wet article of clothing off and replaced it with blankets for the time being.

"We're going to need to set that leg," Bobby said mentally wincing at the thought. It wasn't going to be pleasant, and that break was one of the worst he had ever seen.

"I know," Dean said even though he looked ill at the thought. "He's going to need stitches. God, this is all my fault."

"Don't think about that now," Castiel urged. "Worry about saving your brother for the time being. There will be a point where you can apologize to him yourself and he will apologize to you."

The wind picked up outside as Dean and Bobby set to work stitching up Sam's chest and setting his leg. Dean was forced to go outside and get some fresh air after passing out in the middle of setting Sam's leg. Sam hadn't woken up for it, but the look of pain on the youngest Winchester's face was enough to make the strongest man go weak at the knees. Luckily, Castiel was able to calm Dean down enough for him to be able to help Bobby finish fixing up Sam.

Sam stopped breathing at one point during the time Bobby and Dean were trying to save his life. Dean had nearly broken three of his brother's ribs and popped more then half of the stitches doing CPR. It had worked; Sam was now breathing unevenly, but he was still breathing. That was all Dean could ask for at the moment.

Outside of his chest, stomach, and leg injuries, Sam also received a concussion, two broken fingers, a broken nose, and handprints from where someone had tried to strangle him. There wasn't much Dean or Bobby could do for Sam after they had finished with the serious injuries, except keep him on the morphine that Bobby had in his first aid kit, and watch to make sure he was still breathing.

Castiel had left after he made sure Dean and Bobby could handle Sam's injuries. He had some higher power to report to and he had other assignments, such as stopping Hell on Earth, smiting demons back to Hell, that sort of thing. Dean was both glad and somewhat sorry to see the angel go. Castiel had such a comforting presence at times, and Dean could really use that right about now. Especially after he was the cause of his brother's near death experience and Sam wasn't conscious enough to yell at him or apologize.

Bobby had gone upstairs to his room in the late hours of the morning. The thunderstorm had dissipated, leaving a heavy rain in its place. Dean had been told to go to bed at some point, but he had chosen to stay up and watch his brother. He needed to watch his brother, to protect Sam from anything that tried to harm him. Even if that meant saving Sam from himself.

It was getting close to noon when Bobby came back downstairs in search of food. His first reaction was to check on Sam and bully Dean into leaving his brother long enough to get a few hours of sleep.

He stopped dead when he entered the living room and laid eyes on the couch. Dean was passed out in a sitting position, his hand on Sam's chest and his head on the edge of the couch. Bobby was surprised and touched at the sight; he had thought he would never see those two that close ever again after what both of them had done.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I also do not own the title. _

_Author's Note: Thanks to all the kind reviews and story alerts! It means a lot to know you all are enjoying this. Don't be shy if you haven't reviewed yet; I would love to hear from you!_

_Author's Note 2: I'm sorry it has taken me so long to update. I've been helping out at summer camp over the past two weeks and haven't been getting home until like eight o'clock at night. I'll try to update more on weekends. _

_Author's Note 3: Sorry for the cliffhanger. Had to add some drama to this otherwise boring chapter._

_Enjoy the story! Please review!_

_Summary: The day Lucifer rose was the day Sam disappeared. Weeks later, Dean and Castiel find him in an abandoned town, injured and unconscious and no memory whatsoever as to what happened. With Dean's help, the brothers begin to uncover what really happened to Sam and learn how to become brothers again._

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 2**

**Twenty-four Hours Earlier**

Dean stormed into the ancient house, letting the rickety old door slam shut behind him. The voices he had heard having a murmured conversation in the kitchen fell silent as he burst into it, earning surprised glances from the two men sitting at the kitchen table, untouched coffees in their grasps.

"Dean," the shorter, older one in a trucker cap started. Dean, who had been pouring himself a mug of coffee, spun around to glare at him.

"Not now, Bobby," he growled, rubbing a hand over his tired face. He had dark circles underneath his red rimmed, bloodshot eyes and had two days worth of stubble gracing his chin. He looked awful.

"You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up, boy," Bobby said, shaking his head. "Sam wouldn't want this for you."

"Stop talking about him like he's fucking dead already!" Dean yelled, slamming his fist down on the counter. "He's not dead."

He was shaking visibly as anger and fear threatened to consume him for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath and sighed, letting his mask fall back into place.

"Dean," the taller man in a trench coat began, standing up. He was taller than Dean was, but not by much. His blue eyes were full of concern.

"Save it, Castiel," Dean ordered, glaring out the window. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance and lightning streaked across the sky. "I don't give a damn about your thoughts about what happened to him. He's not evil and he's not dead."

With that, he turned around and stormed out of the kitchen. Castiel sighed as he left, turning to Bobby.

"There is much that can be lost if he continues this crusade of his," he told the old hunter wearily. "It is useless. Sam Winchester is either too far gone to be saved or is dead."

"Yeah, you try telling that to Dean," Bobby grumbled, taking his trucker hat off and running a hand through what little hair he had left. "I don't get why you can't just use your angel mojo and find him."

"You don't understand," Castiel said. "The demons are cloaking him too well for an angel to see. My powers are useless."

It was Bobby's turn to sigh.

"Damn it," he said.

"Now you understand why we are urging Dean to give up on this," the angel said. "We don't want to cause harm, but he needs to understand that this search for his brother is useless. Even if he does find Sam, it will be too late."

"If it was one of your own that was missing," Bobby said. "Would you give up so easily? Sam is the only family Dean's got left. Hell, he's part of the only family I have left. We're not going to give up on him."

"I would give up on them if it was an order to," Castiel said.

"None of us except John Winchester ever had the power to order Dean to do something. Not one of us," Bobby said, shaking his head. "Dean's orders were to watch out for Sam, from his own father, from his mother, and from your God. He's not going to give up until he knows where Sam is."

"You don't sound too certain that the youngest Winchester is alive or the same person he was," Castiel commented.

"I've seen too many hunters after they've been tortured by demons," Bobby said, his gaze darkening. "That is when they make it. They're never the same. I can't see how Sam will be any different, if he hasn't given into them already."

Dean stared at the ceiling in the room he usually shared with Sam, wondering what on earth had happened to his brother. It had been close to two weeks since Lucifer had risen and Sam had disappeared from Dean's side in the convent. Two long weeks, filled with endless searching, researching, and late nights of beer, whiskey, and computer screens, trying to find some sort of hint where his brother was. Dean had even tried tracking his brother's cell phone via the GPS on his BlackBerry. He had succeeded in finding a smashed up phone in the back alley of a shady town in Maryland the week prior. There had been no other signs of Sam since.

* * *

Dean rolled over onto his side and stared at the empty bed across the room. He wondered if Sam knew that they both had been strung along by the angels and demons so that Lucifer would rise. Dean speculated whether things would have been different between them if Sam had known.

There was a knock at the locked bedroom door, breaking Dean out of his brooding. He forced himself to get off the bed and walk over to the door. He knew it was Bobby; Castiel would have just shown up in his room if he wanted to talk.

"I made some sandwiches," Bobby said gruffly as Dean pulled open the door. "Thought you might like something to eat."

The old man had brought up a plate of something that resembled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches up to the room. Dean didn't have the energy to thank him for the gesture.

"No thanks," he said. "I'm not hungry."

"Starving yourself isn't going to help you find Sam, boy," Bobby said. "You need to eat something."

"I said, no thanks," Dean said. His voice was no louder than before, but Bobby reacted as though Dean had struck him.

"All right," the older hunter said backing away. "They'll be in the kitchen if you want any."

Dean watched as Bobby walked down the stairs before closing the door and locking it again. He made a promise to himself not to open the door again unless it was for news about Sam.

He turned around and walked the few short steps to his bed, fully intent on crashing on top of it and brooding some more, but stopped short when he saw Castiel sitting on the edge. The angel had a grim look on his face.

"You found him."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of facts. There was only one reason why Castiel would bother Dean in the first place and that was if he had found Sam.

"I found the spot where he will possibly be," Castiel confirmed.

"Let's go," Dean said determinedly as thunder rumbled in the distance, signaling an oncoming storm. It was time to find his brother.

**

* * *

**

Present

Dean had the feeling that he had slept for too long when he woke up. Sure enough, when he looked outside, he could see the sun just beginning to set over the tops of the trees surrounding the salvage yard. He was certain he had just seen the sun rise when he conked out.

Sighing and running a hand through his hair, he took a glance at Sam, who was still unconscious on the couch. He looked the same as he had the night before—pale and injured. The red light streaming in from the windows did little to help; if anything, it made Sam look worse.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean whispered running a hand through his messed up hair. "I never meant for this to happen."

What exactly did happen, Dean wasn't too sure. All that he remembered from the night in the convent was seeing his brother take out Lilith, the blinding white light, and then waking up with a concussion and a missing brother. That had been close to two weeks ago. It had only been the day before when Castiel had finally found where Sam had ended up.

"How's he doing?"

Dean whirled around to see Bobby standing in the doorway, a trucker cap in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The latter he handed to Dean.

"The same I guess," Dean said with a shrug. "He's alive."

"That's always a good thing," Bobby said placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "He'll make it, Dean."

Dean didn't reply. Instead, he took a long swig of his coffee and fiddled with the edge of the cup, waiting for Bobby to say something.

They stood there in silence for the longest time. The sun eventually set prematurely in a gathering of dark gray clouds.

"Looks like it's going to storm again," Bobby commented. "Should probably go close the upstairs window. You should get some sleep, Dean."

"I'm not going to sleep until Sam wakes up," Dean said stubbornly. "After everything he's been through, I owe him that."

Bobby sighed and headed back toward the stairs to close the window, leaving the eldest Winchester to his thoughts.

Dean sat back down in the chair, despite the protests his back put up from having to sit again for any length of time. He would take the aching muscles if it meant Sam was going to be okay.

He placed the coffee cup on the ground and wiggled his hand underneath Sam's pale, still one. He gently squeezed it, not expecting a reaction. He was surprised when the gentlest of pressures came in response.

"Sammy?" he whispered not daring to believe it.

Exhausted and pained hazel eyes opened in slits.

"D-n?"

"Sam," Dean breathed.

Sam managed to open his eyes a little wider. Dean didn't have to be an expert at reading his brother to know that the youngest Winchester was in a world of pain, but also extremely confused.

"What h'pened? Sam bit out. "Where am I?"

"You disappeared when Lucifer broke free," Dean explained. "You're at Bobby's house right now."

"Okay?"

Dean knew Sam well enough, even after recent events, to know that his brother was asking if Dean was okay.

"I'm fine, dude," Dean said. "You're the one who has been missing. Not me."

"Hurts," Sam whimpered.

Dean's heart broke at the sound. It was so pitiful and sounded so young that it made tears prick the back of his eyes.

"I know, Sammy," Dean whispered gently brushing the hair out of his brother's face. "And I'm so sorry."

Sam gazed up at him through slitted eyes, confusion and pain warring in his hazel eyes. His eyebrows quirked in a silent question.

"For not being there," Dean murmured more to himself than to Sam. "I should have been able to protect you. I should have stopped whatever it was that did this to you before it got the chance. I should have done something!"

"S'not your fault," Sam slurred. His eyes closed briefly, before they snapped open again. They instantly focused on Dean. "Okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean said again, smiling sadly at his brother. Sam obviously didn't remember he already asked that question. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," Sam admitted quietly. "Hurts."

"What hurts?" Dean asked jumping at the chance to do something, anything, for his brother.

"Everything," Sam murmured. "Head. Chest. Leg." He grimaced as he mentioned the last one. "Leg, mostly."

"That's because you hurt it pretty badly, Sam," Dean said.

Sam sighed heavily, another grimace darkening his face.

"M tired, Dean," he whispered.

"Go to sleep, Sammy," Dean murmured running his hand through his brother's hair again. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

Dean's heart lurched. How could his twenty-five year old brother sound so much like the four year old Dean had looked after all those years ago? He remembered when John had gone out on his first hunt, leaving without any explanation to a four-year-old Sam as to where he was going. Sam had been afraid to go to sleep, scared that Dean would leave in the middle of the night as well. Dean had promised to be there when he woke up and Sam had gone to sleep instantly.

"I promise," Dean said softly. "I promise, Sammy."

Sam's pained eyes closed and within seconds, he was snoring quietly. Dean smiled slightly at the sight of his sleeping brother. It felt as though he never got to see this side of Sam anymore, the side that was still a young kid that wanted his older brother. Sam had grown up, become his own independent person without much need for Dean anymore. Dean was grateful for moments like these were it was obvious that as much as Sam tried to deny it, he still needed Dean. It made him feel as though his life were worth something again.

"Dean?"

Bobby was back again. Dean glanced up from Sam's sleeping form, the smile still on his face.

"He just fell asleep," Dean said softly.

"How is he?" Bobby asked walking a little closer.

"Better then he was when we found him," Dean murmured. "But he still has a long way to go before he's better."

Bobby nodded, clapping Dean once on the shoulder.

"Make sure you eat something," the older hunter said gruffly. "There's coffee on the stove and sandwiches in the fridge. If you're going to stay up with Sam, take some."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said. "For everything."

Bobby nodded again, before walking out of the living room. It was only then did Dean realize that he was being watched.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters. I do not own _You Found Me_ the song either. **

**Author's Note: I think you're all going to get mad at me because I didn't kill Ruby in this chapter, but have no fear, she will die. I just want her to have a truly fitting end. I make mentions to it in this chapter, actually, of how I really want her to die. **

**Author's Note 2: This is really just an excuse for some Ruby vs Dean because I love writing those two. It also has some random thing about coffee at the very end because of an extremely strange dream I had last night about swimming in a sea of hot coffee... Any way, enjoy and tell me what you think! There will be some more Sam in the next chapter, I promise. **

**Read and review please! And those who have put it on story alert, don't be shy! I'd love to hear what you think of the story!!**

* * *

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 3**

Dean turned around very slowly, reaching instinctively for the demon killing knife that he kept in his jacket pocket at all times. He kept it by him in case he ran into Ruby, the vicious bitch, and he needed some way to work out his frustrations. His grip tightened even further on the handle when he saw the familiar brunette head leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and glaring outright at Dean with a strong expression of contempt on her face.

"So he survived," she stated. "Wow, he's stronger than I thought."

"Why couldn't you have just sent flowers?" Dean asked as he stood up, his fingers still around the hilt. He felt Sam's grip on his hand tighten as Dean tried to pry it from his brother's grasp.

"And miss seeing your smiling face? It was just an opportunity I couldn't miss," Ruby said sarcastically. "I want to talk to him."

"Come back later," Dean said. "He's not exactly up for another round of your mind twisting bull crap."

"Oh, harsh words," Ruby said rolling her eyes. "When can I come back?"

"How about never?" Dean suggested. "That'd be great for the rest of us."

"Dean, all I want is to talk to Sam," Ruby said. "I think you owe me that much."

"Oh, I owe you? You get Sam so screwed in the head that he thinks drinking demon blood and hanging out with _you_ is the right thing to do and he can't trust his own brother and _I_ owe _you_ something?" Dean demanded in disbelief. "Did Hell fry your brain?"

"Did it fry yours? Because as I recall, I saved your brother's life while you were busy roasting in the pit," Ruby retorted.

"I more than repaid _that_ by not killing you the moment I found out who—I'm sorry, _what_—you really are," Dean shot back.

"Or maybe it was because you know what you were doing was wrong," Ruby said.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"And what is it that I was doing?"

"You were holding Sam back from his destiny, from what he can really be," Ruby said.

"Oh, sure, I'm positive that's all that was on your agenda," Dean replied angrily. "Having Sam's best interests at heart, making sure he would live up to his full capabilities, yeah that sounds like you all right."

"It was!" Ruby protested.

"And getting Sam addicted to demon blood and nearly killed trying to exorcise demons with his _mind_ was all part of 'saving his life'," Dean said sarcastically. "No thanks. I don't buy it."

"It's the truth. Sam's not dead. He's more powerful than ever," Ruby said.

Dean glared at her for a moment.

"Does he look powerful to you? Does he look not dead?" he demanded casting a swift glance to his unconscious brother. Sam's gray face was drawn in pain and there was a sickly sheen of sweat on his face. He looked younger than his twenty-five years, much younger. Sam didn't look like he was a person who was capable of killing demons with his mind.

"Looks can be deceiving," Ruby pointed out.

"Your 'help'--" Dean put air quotes around help, "Nearly got Sam killed. It unleashed Lucifer from the sixty-six seals. It started the damn apocalypse. You had your agenda and it wasn't looking after Sam's well-being. It was using him to do what you were too weak to do."

"If you think I'm so evil, why don't you kill me?" Ruby challenged. "You're holding the knife after all. Why don't you just drive it through my heart?"

"It's a thought," Dean said pulling the knife out of his jacket and toying with the tip. "But I'm sure Sam wouldn't be too happy with me if I didn't give him the chance to kill you himself, using the methods you taught him. That would be poetic justice."

"So you're all of a sudden concerned with what Sam wants all of a sudden?" Ruby demanded with a laugh. "That's a joke, right? You haven't been there for him since you died and came back from Hell, Dean. You have no idea who your brother is anymore, or what he wants and needs. Face it, I know him better then you do and that's what has you so scared. You think Sammy is going dark side after all and you're going to have to live up to those promises you made Johnny and little Sammy two years ago. You're scared of being alone, even though you already are."

"You don't know crap about me," Dean retorted. "And I sure as Hell know my brother a lot better than you do, even with the four month hiatus."

"Hiatus? Cute," Ruby snorted. "You know I'm right. So why don't you just run along and let me look after Sam?"

"I should just kill you right now," Dean growled.

"Then do it," Ruby taunted. "Do it. Prove to me that you're no better than the things you hunt, because if you kill me right now--."

"I'd be doing the entire world a favor," Dean interrupted. "I'd be doing Sam a favor. But you're right—I'd enjoy it way too much if I killed you right now. So I'm going to make you sweat it out for a while and kill you when you least expect it."

He didn't tell Ruby that the only thing keeping her alive was the person who refused to let go of Dean's hand at the moment. Dean knew that his brother wouldn't mind at this point, especially after everything the bitch had done, but Sam was all for revenge. And Dean wouldn't mind pointing that powerful weapon his brother had in a good direction for once.

"I'm scared," Ruby said with an eye roll.

"You should be," Dean retorted. "I'd leave now if I were you. I don't know how long my generous mood is going to last."

"You call death threats generous?" Ruby asked sarcastically.

"You're alive, aren't you?" Dean replied innocently. "Now leave if you want to stay that way for a little longer."

Ruby glared at him for a moment longer before disappearing. Dean sighed in relief once she was gone as he put the knife back in his jacket and sat back down again next to Sam, giving his brother's hand a reassuring squeeze to let the younger Winchester know he was still there.

Dean watched Sam sleep for a little while longer before he carefully slid his hand out from his brother's. Sam mumbled something and his hand moved in search of Dean's.

"I'll be back in a minute, Sammy," Dean whispered carding a hand through Sam's hair. "I just gotta go eat something before I keel over, okay?"

Sam murmured something incoherent. Dean smiled as he got off the chair and headed toward the kitchen. He passed a clock on the way in, surprised to find it was getting close to midnight. He realized that the house was fairly silent, outside of the faint snoring upstairs coming from Bobby's bedroom and the whirring of the heater as it fought to keep the house at a comfortable temperature against the freezing rain outside.

Dean set to work fixing himself a cup of coffee, sitting down at the table while the coffee machine brewed the thick, strong liquid. He battled against his drooping eyelids, wanting to stay awake in case Sam woke up again in the middle of the night and needed something or if Ruby came back again. But somewhere in between listening to the coffee brew and the rain crescendo outside, Dean found himself lulled to sleep. His last thought before he completely went under was that he hoped the entire house didn't fill with coffee because he forgot to turn off the machine. How would he explain it to Bobby if the grouchy hunter woke up the next morning and found his entire bottom floor flooded and both Winchesters having drowned in the midst of a sea of coffee?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters. They all belong to Kripke and his merry band of misfits. Unfortunately. **

**Author's Note: Yeah... this is late. Like really really really x100000000000 late. I am sorry about that. I just lost interest in this story up until now and even now, it's for short spans. I am so sorry. I never meant to let this go. I hope you all will forgive me for that and for the length of this chapter.**

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 4**

Sam was distantly aware of someone talking to him. He could hear a familiar voice speaking through the inky inferno that had him trapped, but he couldn't make out the words or the person who was speaking. The voice sounded a lot like Dean's, but that made Sam's befuddled mind all the more confused. Dean hated him. Dean wanted to hunt him. Why would he be talking to him?

"I think he's running fever," he heard the voice that may or may not have been Dean say. "He needs a hospital."

"All of them are infested with demons!" another voice said one that sounded distinctly like Bobby. That made about as much sense as Dean's. Sam had attacked Bobby the last time he had seen the older man. Why would he be here?

"I know that!" Dean shouted. "But his wounds are infected and he needs antibiotics!"

_That explains the pain,_ Sam thought absently as he tried to hang on to the sound of Bobby and Dean's voices. He didn't want to be sucked back into the darkness again.

"Damn it," he heard Bobby swear.

There was a cold, gentle pressure on his forehead; one that took away the aches Sam didn't even know existed. He whimpered when the pressure was suddenly gone.

"Easy," Dean murmured from somewhere above him. "I've got to grab another one, okay?"

"Can't the friendly neighborhood angel do anything?" Bobby asked gruffly.

"You heard him, Bobby. Castiel can't do anything," Dean said sounding as exhausted and pained as Sam felt.

"Damn," Bobby swore again.

"If he could just hold water down, I wouldn't be so worried," Dean said quietly. "But he can't and his fever is spiking."

Sam felt a sudden movement somewhere near his legs. He let out another whimper when the movement jostled his injured leg and sent pain searing through him.

"Shit," Dean swore. "Crap. His leg. I forgot. Sorry, Sammy."

The relieving cold was back on his forehead and there was something warm on his leg that took away the sharp agony that had been shooting up it. Sam sighed in relief.

"I'm going to go call Ellen, see if she knows anything," Bobby said sounding as though he were suddenly far away.

Sam realized that he was drifting back into the state of unconsciousness. Feebly, he tried to fight against it, only to give up when it became clear that that was one battle he wasn't going to win. He thought he murmured Dean's name before he fully went under.

* * *

Pain assaulted him as he fought his way back to awareness again. Sam could barely breathe through the constant waves of agony that flooded through him every time he inhaled.

_Breathing shouldn't be this painful_, he thought.

There was a gentle pressure on his head, though despite its lightness, it still hurt.

"Easy," Dean murmured when Sam accidently let a whimper escape his lips. "You're going to be okay."

_How can he say that?_ Sam wondered. _After everything I've done to him, after everything we've both been through, how can he say that everything's going to be okay?_

"How's he doing?" Bobby asked from somewhere nearby.

"Not so good," Dean said. "The fever's gone, but he's in serious pain. He keeps calling my name, asking me to help him. I could help him if only he'd just wake up."

_Who says that I want to wake up? _Sam wanted to know. He didn't, not really. He didn't want to face the reality of everything he caused. _Which was what, exactly?_ he asked himself.

It hit him then that he couldn't remember anything about what happened to him. And that terrified him even more than the overpowering darkness that overtook him at that moment and took away every thought and noise.

The next time Sam became aware of what was going on; he noticed that he didn't hurt nearly as bad any more. He felt better than he had in a long time.

"Come on, Sam, open your eyes."

Dean's voice made Sam start and his eyes flew open. The sudden brightness overwhelmed his pupils and he let out a low groan as it brought about a sudden pounding in his head.

"Sorry," Dean said quickly.

The bright light was turned off, allowing Sam's eyes to adjust to the dimmer light.

"Hey," Sam rasped as his eyes focused on his brother. Dean looked exhausted, with dark circles underneath sunken eyes and greasy hair. He looked nearly as bad as Sam felt.

"Hey," Dean said quietly. "Are you awake for good this time or are you just sleep-talking again?"

Sam raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"What?" he asked wincing as the effort of talking made his throat hurt.

"Never mind," Dean said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," Sam rasped. "How long has it been?"

"Two weeks, three days, five hours, and seven minutes," Dean rattled off instantly. "You were out of it for a while."

Sam managed a grimace, pleased to find that that didn't hurt. The rest of him, however, hurt like Hell. His chest burned, his head ached, his nose hurt, and his leg was killing him. Even the tips of his hair hurt.

He was about to ask for water to soothe the fire in his throat when a glass full of the miraculous liquid appeared in front of his face, connected to Dean's hand. Sam drank greedily, ignoring Dean's words of caution about drinking too much of it. He stopped only when the glass was empty.

"What happened?" he asked his voice sounding more normal now.

Dean had a good enough poker face to fool most people, but Sam wasn't most people. He could sense, even on the cliff of death, when Dean didn't know what to say and was trying to think of something that wouldn't freak Sam out. Now was one of those times.

"What?" Sam persisted.

"I don't know, Sammy," Dean said softly. "I mean, one minute you were beside me in that convent and then the next… I don't know, poof, and I was waking up with a concussion in the middle of a pile of wreckage and you were just _gone_. I—Cass and I—we, uh, we found you two weeks ago. Do you remember anything?"

Sam strained his mind, trying to recall his last memories. The only thing he could remember was the blinding white light and Dean being beside him. After that… only a black void full of pain and terror.

"No," Sam whispered painfully. "I don't remember anything at all."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: Sorry for the length in between updates. I had a hard time writing this chapter and am still not overly pleased with it. Still, I wanted to get at least one update in before I start a new story. **

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 5**

Dean watched sadly as Sam lost the battle against his eyelids and sank back into a state of unconsciousness. Just as well, Dean thought, for he had no idea what to say to his near fatally injured brother who had no memory as to what happened to him. Dean was still trying to come to the terms with the fact that Sam had chosen a demon over his own brother because of a serious addiction to demon blood and a burning desire to get revenge on everything that had happened to him. Dean wasn't ready for the sudden change from stubborn and mislead to lost and insecure, searching for something or someone to hold on to.

Dean stood up from the couch, cursing softly as his aching knees put up a protest, before carding a hand through his hair. He felt more than heard the angel's arrival into the living room and knew before he even turned around that Castiel was the bearer of bad news.

"Lucifer's army is growing," the angel said gravelly. "It's only a matter of time before this war comes to a head."

"And that's my problem, why?" Dean wanted to know.

"The world is about to end, Dean," Castiel said his voice hardening. "This is no longer just about your brother."

"It hasn't been about Sam in a very long time," Dean retorted. "Not since I came back from Hell. And where are we because of it? The world's ending, he—we are barely hanging on, and Sam has no memory about what happened to him. How the Hell am I supposed to help him if he can't remember anything?"

"Dean, Heaven needs you for the coming war," Castiel pressed. "Time is short. You need to face that your brother may not be able to be saved."

"If one more person says that, I swear they are going to end up with a one way ticket to Hell," Dean growled. "And I've been to Hell and I know that you do not want to go there."

"You are needed in this coming war," Castiel repeated.

"No, Sam needs me to be here for him. Screw your damn war. It's your fault anyway that your world is totally shot to Hell," Dean snarled. "There are other people out there that can help you. Sam needs me now the same way he needed me that night we found him. I can't give up on him now."

Castiel sighed heavily. Dean realized that the angel looked about as worn out as he felt at the moment, but that wasn't about to change his mind about saving Sam.

"I can help you save your brother, Dean," Castiel said.

"I thought you said that you couldn't heal physical injuries," Dean said unwilling to let himself get his hopes up.

"I might not be able to heal his physical wounds, but I can help with the emotional ones," Castiel replied. "But you must promise that once you and Sam are well enough, you will rejoin the fight. Heaven needs you."

"Sam needs me more," Dean said. "And I don't know if we'll ever be ready. Judging by Sam's wounds, I doubt that's anything he's going to be recovering from anytime soon. Even with your help, which I refuse. This is one we have to deal with on our own."

"Dean," Castiel began.

"Save it, Cass," Dean said his voice growing hard again.

There was a slight breeze and a fluttering of wings. Dean sighed angrily when he realized that meant the angel was gone.

"Stupid fucking angels," he muttered. He walked toward the kitchen, intent on getting some coffee, when Bobby's form in the doorway stopped him.

"You're an idjit," the older hunter said gruffly.

"I'm going to get you a trucker cap that says that," Dean muttered. "Bobby, I meant what I said to Cass."

"It's about damn time," Bobby growled. He held out a cup of coffee. "Here. Thought you might like a cup."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said wrapping his hands around his mug. He took a glance back at Sam. "He doesn't remember anything."

Bobby didn't even raise an eyebrow as he took a swig of his coffee.

"Are you really that surprised?" he asked. "You didn't remember what happened to you in Hell."

Dean winced at Bobby's words—he had remembered everything from Hell, but he hadn't told the older hunter.

"I just—it's different this time, Bobby," Dean said. "I don't think it's Sam's fault that he doesn't remember. I don't think that he's blocking this one out on his own. The kid has a higher threshold of pain than I do."

"Then what do you think is blocking his memory?" Bobby wanted to know. "And if you're so damn sure that it's not Sam doing it, then why won't you let Castiel help you?"

"I think it's a demon, or rather _the_ demon," Dean said.

"You mean to say that you think Lucifer is the one blocking Sam's memory?" Bobby asked incredulously. "Are you out of your mind boy?"

"Why would I be?" Dean retorted. "He's risen. I know, I was there. So was Sam. Why wouldn't it have been him? Maybe he did something to Sam that he doesn't want anyone else to know."

"Like what?" Bobby demanded.

"I don't know!" Dean replied honestly. "Maybe I'm totally wrong here. I don't know. But it just doesn't seem like Sam to block out his memory like that."

"People change, Dean," Bobby said gravelly. "You should know that better than anyone."

* * *

Dogs barked in the distance. Thunder rolled over head. Blood seeped from the compound fracture in his leg as Sam struggled to pull himself to safety. The only noise outside of the occasional clap of thunder was his ragged breathing.

"Dean!" he yelled. "Dean!"

There was no answer. He cursed loudly when his injured leg got caught by a piece of collapsing debris. He was stuck.

A dog howled somewhere nearby. Terrified, Sam tried to get his leg free, but the pain was too great. He let out a loud yell of horror as the huge hounds entered his field of sight.

"No. No! Dean!"

* * *

Sam woke with a start, breathing hard and sweating heavily. He looked wildly around the room, looking for the dogs that had haunted his dreams, but instead only found Dean reading a book in the recliner, looking half asleep as he sipped at a mug of coffee.

Dean looked up as Sam managed to get his breathing under control. He didn't seem too surprised to find the younger Winchester awake.

"Hey," he said quietly setting down the book.

"Hey," Sam replied his voice barely a hoarse whisper. "How long was I out for?"

"A few hours," Dean answered. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but obviously decided against it.

They were both quiet for a moment. Sam wasn't sure what he should say to Dean—if he should say anything at all—about what happened between them before the events at the convent or about his nightmare. By the look on Dean's face, he was obviously having the same internal struggle.

"You okay?" Dean asked after a while.

"I'm fine," Sam mumbled not wanting to admit to the sharp pain in his lower leg or the lingering fear he felt because of his nightmare. However, there was another, very pressing need that could not go without being admitted "Need to use the bathroom."

Dean slid off the recliner and set his coffee on the table, alongside of his book. Sam absently noted that Dean was barefoot and wondered how on earth that had happened. Dean always had his boots on.

Sam let out a muffled curse as he attempted to sit up on his own. Pain seared through his chest, black spotted his vision, and he found himself gasping for breath. He barely heard Dean's soothing yet slightly panicked voice, but Sam felt the gentle hand on his back.

"Take it easy, just breathe," Dean was murmuring. "Breathe with me, Sammy. You're okay. Just relax."

Sam struggled to do what Dean told him. Before too long, he had his breathing under control and the pain gradually started to fade into a dull stabbing sensation.

"I'm okay," Sam whispered.

"Yeah and I'm Steve Perry," Dean said sarcastically. Sam didn't miss the small shake in his brother's voice. "C'mon, we'll take it slow. If you hurt, let me know."

Sam didn't say anything, but merely nodded once, glad to find that that didn't hurt. He allowed Dean to slip an arm around his shoulders, groaning inwardly as he tried to move too much.

"This isn't going to work," he muttered swearing as he allowed Dean to pull him into a sitting position.

"Sorry," Dean said quickly. "Are you okay?"

Sam closed his eyes, not wanting to answer Dean. He had a feeling that if he opened his mouth again, he was going to end up puking all over the floor.

"Dean? Is everything okay?"

Sam's eyes flew open at the sound of Bobby's voice. The last time he had actually talked to Bobby was… Sam forced his thoughts in another direction, not wanting to think about the fall out he and Bobby had had when Sam had escaped from the panic room. Or rather, been let out from the panic room, but the details were beside the point.

The older hunter walked into the room and stared in open shock at Sam. A small, hesitant smile spread across Bobby's face.

"Hey, Sam," he said quietly.

"Hi, Bobby," Sam said his voice just as quiet.

"How you feeling, son?" Bobby asked gruffly.

Sam wanted to say that he was fine, that there was nothing wrong with him. But he knew that those words were a lie and he was sick of lying. He didn't want to do it anymore; he had witnessed what it did to his brother when Sam had lied to him. He didn't want that anymore.

"He'll be fine," Dean answered for Sam, his voice fierce and protective.

Sam started at his brother's voice. It sounded so much like the Dean Sam used to know that it was scary. It had been forever since he had heard that tone of voice coming from his brother. It had felt like a lifetime ago. _It was,_ he thought grimly. _For Dean, anyway._

"Of course you will," Bobby said turning his face away. Sam could have sworn that he had seen tears in the older man's eyes and was once again shocked. He didn't get a chance to ask the older hunter about it, for Bobby took his leave then.

"Let me know if you two need anything," he said over his shoulder before disappearing out of the room.

There was silence for a few moments. Then,

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I—I never meant any of this to happen."

"It's going to be okay, Sam," Dean said softly. "You'll be okay. _We_ will be okay."

And Sam didn't doubt him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: This chapter is really disjointed... but I like the basic idea of it and I wanted to get you all an update before I went to bed since I've updated the rest of my stories. Hopefully you'll enjoy it!!**

**Author's Note 2: I'm back, officially!! You can throw wild parties in my honor, if you so wish. NaNoWriMo (aka, the month of insanity) is over and yes, by the way, I did win the contest. If you wish to read the story that took up all my time and all the updates go to www. thejournal5. webs. com (take out the spaces). It's entitled the Fourth Reich. **

**Author's Note 3: Hopefully I haven't driven you all away with my lack of updates. I do really appreciate the reviews and support you've given me and I hope you will continue to do so in the future. **

**Without further ado, here is the next chapter of _You Found Me_.**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 6**

The weeks began to creep by slowly as Sam gradually healed and regained his strength. Before long, he was able to stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time and sit up by himself. Walking was still out of the question, because of both his injured leg and ribs. That was fine by him, though, because there was no where else he really wanted to go.

Dean didn't leave Sam's side once during the month and a half the youngest Winchester was couch ridden, except to use the bathroom and take the occasional shower. Bobby had been in and out of the living room, always hovering near the edge. Sam had refused to meet the older hunter's eye once.

As the physical injuries began to heal, Sam attempted to deal with the memories, or lack there of. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't remember anything, including the terrifying nightmares that plagued him while he slept. On more than one occasion, Dean had asked what they were about, but Sam couldn't tell him. All he remembered was calling Dean's name and intense pain.

One evening, about seven weeks after Dean had found Sam, Sam woke up from a particularly horrifying nightmare alone. Dean was nowhere in sight and that was a bad thing. Sam didn't remember any of the specifics of the nightmare, but he did remember knowing that Dean wasn't there and that was why it was horrifying.

"Samuel."

Sam nearly fell off the couch when he heard the calm, even voice and turned toward it. His pulse, which was already racing, went into overdrive when he saw the all too familiar unfriendly angel standing there with a neutral expression on his face.

"Zachariah," Sam said pushing himself further up on the couch cushions. He fought back a groan when he moved his injured leg—it still hurt like Hell.

"You look considerably better than the last time I saw you," the angel said in his usual bland tone of voice.

Sam was confused. Granted his memory wasn't the best at the moment, but he didn't recall Dean saying that Zachariah had stopped by. And Sam was fairly certain he'd remember _that_. Dean hated Zachariah.

"You look considerably more alive than I expected after what Dean told me what you did," Sam retorted.

"You better watch your mouth around me, boy," Zachariah said. "I have been generous in letting you live. Don't do anything to screw that up because I will destroy you without a second thought."

"Good luck," Sam said genially. "I mean, if Lucifer couldn't kill me--."

He was cut off suddenly by a huge, invisible clog in his throat, cutting off his ability to breathe.

"Do _not_ get cocky," Zachariah said. He flicked his hand and suddenly Sam could breathe again. He did so in huge, gasping breaths.

"Now listen to me," the angel continued. "A battle is coming and it is coming fast. Our side needs Dean and the information you gained while Lucifer held you prisoner. It could be crucial to winning this war."

"The war you started because you thought you could control it," Sam muttered. He instantly regretted his inability to keep his big mouth shut when he found himself lacking in oxygen again.

"I won't kill you because that would be pointless right now," Zachariah said. "But know this—the second you become more trouble than you're worth, you will be dead. I will kill you myself."

"I've heard that threat before," Sam said boldly the moment he could breathe again. "And I'm still around. I don't scare that easily. Besides, you might as well kill me now because I don't remember a thing about what happened to me."

"You're lying," Zachariah said. "You remember everything. You just don't realize it."

Before Sam could make a sarcastic comment about self-righteous douche bags thinking that they knew everything, Zachariah disappeared and in his place stood Dean, who was carrying a large brown paper bag and munching on what looked like a hotdog.

"Hungry?" Dean asked through the mouthful of hotdog.

Sam shook his head, his thoughts straying to what had just happened. He wondered absently if it had been a dream or if it had really happened. If it had happened, what was with the crack about remembering everything? Sam sure as hell didn't remember anything.

"Sammy?" Dean prompted setting the brown paper bag down on Bobby's coffee table.

"I'm fine," Sam said blinking and mentally shaking his head.

"Dude, I know you," Dean said. "You're like an open book. What's wrong?"

"I—it's nothing," Sam said. "Really, Dean, it's just that—I can't remember _anything_ about what happened to me. Anything. Doesn't that strike you as strange?"

"No," Dean said bluntly. Sam stared at him. "No, Sam. I don't. If your injuries are anything to go by, I am not surprised that you're blocking this out. I—it was—if I could, I would block out Hell for the rest of my life. Block out what happened to me down there. You've been given a free pass on this one, Sam."

"I don't want a free pass, Dean," Sam said stubbornly. "I want to remember. Everyone needs me to remember."

"Who exactly is this 'everyone', Sam?" Dean demanded angrily.

"So you don't want me to remember?" Sam countered his voice rising.

The last few months, the last year really, was suddenly right there in the tense, silent stand-off going on between the two brothers. Everything, from the lies they both told each other (_I am not using my powers, Dean. It was your dying wish that I didn't) _and themselves (_I'm doing the right thing_) to the heartbreaking ends (_you walk out that door, you never come back_) was right there.

Dean looked away first, not wanting to argue with Sam while the younger Winchester was hurting. Sam didn't want to argue with his brother either, but was too stubborn to back down.

"I'm not sure if I can answer that question," Dean murmured honestly.

Sam crossed his arms across his chest but didn't say anything. He didn't even know why he was spoiling for a fight. He didn't want to get into a pissing contest with Dean, not so soon after the older Winchester had forgiven him for everything.

"Zachariah came by," he said eventually when the silence borded on awkward.

Dean looked _pissed_.

"And you didn't mention it?" he demanded.

"I just did," Sam said childishly.

Dean gave Sam an annoyed glare.

"What did the dick want?" he asked in the tone of voice he reserved for talking to angels or about them.

"The usual. End of the world, me dead, Lucifer dead, you know. Angel crap. He did say something interesting though," Sam muttered.

"Oh?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Said something about me being able to remember, just not wanting to," he said quietly. "You know that's not true, though. I want to remember."

"And I don't understand why," Dean growled.

Sam had heard this argument more than once over the past few weeks. He understood where Dean was coming from, but Sam needed to remember. He felt as though a vital part of him was missing because he couldn't remember. He had explained that to Dean, numerous times, but the older Winchester had just shook his head and grumbled something that sounded distinctly like _idjit_.

"He said something else too," Sam said. "Something more important."

Dean's eyebrow went higher as he waited for Sam to continue.

"Zachariah said there was a war coming," he said.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed _that_," Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Seriously Sam, I know that you had a concussion and all because of what happened to you, but are you mentally ill? That is like the world's biggest gimme _ever_. We let Lucifer walk free and you don't think there's a war coming? Honestly! I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"I'm the one that consorts with demons, remember?" Sam snapped. "And that wasn't all he said. Said something about me holding you back and that my not being able to remember was keeping you from fighting the damn battle."

"Well that's a new one," Dean muttered. "Me, holding you back. Huh. I always thought it was the other way around."

Sam winced, but not because of physical pain. He never meant those words he had told Dean while under the siren's influence. He knew that he wouldn't have been anything at all if it hadn't been for Dean. Hell, he wouldn't have even been alive if it wasn't for Dean.

"You know that's not true," Sam said softly.

"Do I? Maybe I do," Dean said with a shrug. "Maybe I don't. Point is, even if you were keeping me from fighting in this war, which you totally are by the way, what makes you think that I _want_ to be in this without you?"

Sam, who had been staring at his knees, snapped his head up to look at Dean in shock.

"Do you mean that?"

"Yeah. You're my brother, Sam. Even with all the crap you've pulled lately, you're still my brother. And as chick-flickey as this sounds, I know for a fact that I can't seem to do anything right without you around. So, screw-ups and all, you're stuck with me."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to give you guys this chapter. Hope it's worth it!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 7**

Dean was beginning to sense a tradition in the making. It was two o'clock in the morning, once again, and he once again wasn't sleeping. He was also once again nursing a cup of coffee in the middle of Bobby's kitchen, thinking of all the things he would rather be doing than drinking cold coffee and reading boring news articles about events he knew absolutely nothing about. Of course, most of those things he would rather be doing involved Sam getting better, the Impala, and a duffel bag full of shotguns, salt, some extra shells, and Ruby's knife, which would inevitably mean that he would wind up back here in this exact same position in a few weeks, but Dean was so frigging bored by that point, that he didn't care.

Dean and boredom did not mix. It was when he was bored that he did stupid things, like get the cops called on them or getting one of the Winchester brothers involved with the nasty supernatural creature they were hunting at the moment. Dean was one of those people that constantly had to be doing something. Waiting around for Sam to get better, though important, was not one of Dean's favorite things to do for obvious reasons.

Dean was just starting to work the crossword puzzle when he heard Sam's shout of fear. Before he had ever consciously decided to do anything, Dean was in the doorway to the living room with Ruby's knife in hand. He relaxed ever so slightly when he realized that there was nothing attacking Sam, that it was just a nightmare. Still, those by themselves were on about the same level as some of the things the Winchesters had hunted.

Knowing it wasn't a great idea to startle his brother; Dean approached the sleeping Winchester cautiously before placing a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder. He wasn't expecting the reaction he received. One minute, he was the concerned older brother, the next, Dean was a highly pissed off and agitated older brother with a bloody nose and an overwhelming fear that something was wrong with Sam.

"Sam! Wake up!" Dean shouted as Sam attempted to roll over onto his side. If it weren't for the younger's injured leg, it wouldn't have mattered.

"No. Dean. DEAN!"

Suddenly, Sam was sitting straight up, breathing hard and looking around wildly. His alarmed hazel eyes grew almost comically wide as they landed on Dean, who was nursing his bloody nose.

"You mind telling me what that was about?" Dean asked thickly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanker chief that had obviously seen better days.

"What happened to your nose?" Sam asked taking a deep breath and visibly calming.

"I decided to use your fist as a Kleenex," Dean said rolling his eyes. "What do you think happened?"

"I'm sorry," Sam murmured looking away.

Dean sighed internally. This reaction was becoming all too common from Sam as of late. Not that Dean minded—there was a lot that Sam needed to apologize for, but it was getting annoying.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Sam," he said. "I want you to tell me what's going on."

"I don't remember," Sam muttered.

"You're a terrible liar, Sammy," Dean said sitting down on the couch next to Sam, mindful of his brother's broken leg.

"It's just that—I don't want to talk about it," Sam said.

"What? You're the sharing and caring brother, remember? I'm supposed to be the dark, mysterious one."

Dean's attempts at humor went unheeded. He didn't get so much as a blank stare, which alerted him to the fact that something was really wrong with his brother, outside of the whole recovering from the near death experience thing.

"I've been having these nightmares," Sam started. "They always start out the same. We're in the convent right before Lucifer gets out. I apologize to you and then there's this really bright white light. And then everything goes black for a second and then you're not there. I'm alone and have no idea where the hell I am."

Dean was quiet, not sure as to what to say. He was fairly certain that these nightmares were Sam's subconscious' way of trying to remember, for the first part matched up exactly with what Dean remembered.

"And then I get this feeling that someone's watching me," Sam continued without prompting. He had a blank look in his hazel eyes, one that Dean really didn't like. "Then this man appears out of nowhere. I have no idea who the hell he is."

_It's Lucifer_, Dean thought darkly. _Or one of his hundreds of minions. _

"He tells me that you left and that you weren't coming for me," Sam said his voice growing bitter. "I know, it's just a dream, but I still can't help but feel that maybe he's right. He tells me that I should just give up and agree to him. Every single time I tell him to go fuck himself."

Dean could barely contain a grin. That was the Sammy he knew and loved.

"It gets kind of fuzzy from there."

Dean could always tell when people were lying to him. He knew Sam better than he knew anyone else, but decided not to call the youngest Winchester on it. He had done the same thing to protect Sam time and time again. Still, the fact that Sam felt that what his dream was or memory or whatever the hell this thing was, was bad enough not to tell Dean, then it just made the older Winchester that much more angry and concerned. He wanted desperately to rip into something, preferably someone, to make them pay for all the hell Sam had gone through. It wasn't fair.

"Usually, I wake up when the hellhounds start chasing me," Sam said looking away from Dean.

They really never got the chance to talk about what they had both gone through that day Dean had gone to Hell. There really had never been a good opportunity. Dean highly doubted that two o'clock in the morning was the best of times to have that conversation either.

"It's just a dream, Sam," Dean said softly, knowing that his brother wouldn't believe it. Hell, he didn't believe it either.

Sam let out a sad chuckle.

"I wish," he said. He hesitated for a brief second. "There's something else. Something that I haven't wanted to tell you, but I think I should."

"What?" Dean was instantly concerned.

"I—this is going to sound really stupid," Sam said. "But--."

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Bobby's sudden entrance. Dean had only seen the man look so terrified twice before—once when Sam had died and once when Dean had told the older hunter about the deal.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked instantly getting to his feet.

"It's Ellen," Bobby said. "She and Jo were discovered by demons. I just talked to her on the phone. They're in hiding at the moment, but she fears that the only reason why they haven't been found yet is because the demons are waiting for something."

"Lucifer," Sam whispered looking suddenly terrified. Dean didn't blame him. As much as he pretended to be a badass about this entire thing, he was scared to death of the devil.

"She needs someone to help get her out of there," Bobby said swallowing. "You know I'd never ask you to do this, Dean, unless I thought I couldn't handle it myself."

The weight of what Bobby was asking him to do fully hit Dean at that moment. Bobby was asking him to leave Sam, put his life in danger, and save Ellen and Jo. Normally there wouldn't be any question about it—Sam was safe enough at Bobby's place especially with the older hunter around, but there was something nagging at Dean. Something about the way Sam seemed to be shaking like a leaf and his face had suddenly become three shades paler than normal.

"You should do it, Dean," Sam said softly. "Ellen and Jo, they need you."

"I can't leave you here by yourself," Dean disagreed.

"Bobby'll be here," Sam said. "I'll be fine."

"No, Sam," Dean argued.

"Please," Sam said pleadingly. "We can't let anyone else die."

The look in Sam's eyes was heartbreaking. Dean could hardly say no when his brother looked that sad.

"All right," Dean said. "But if anything happens to you while I'm gone, I swear to god, I will bring you back and kill you myself."

Sam let out a sad chuckle.

"I'll be fine," he said again. "Go."

Dean hesitated as he walked to the door to the living room. He didn't want to leave Sam by himself or even with Bobby when he was this vulnerable. Especially not after everything that Sam had gone through.

"I'll watch out for him," Bobby said in a low voice as Dean hesitantly climbed the stairs. "And you won't be alone. Joshua and Teague said they'd meet you in Bristol."

"If anything happens, call me," Dean said. "If he so much as breathes wrong, I want to hear about it."

"I will," Bobby promised. "Take care of yourself out there. I speak for him and for me when I say we don't want to lose you again."

"Remember this was your idea old man," Dean said. "But I will be careful. Ellen and Jo will be okay. Hell won't know what hit it."

Bobby smiled once, but it was a bitter smile. He clapped Dean on the shoulder and headed for the kitchen. Dean sighed before going up to his room to pack.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: I apologize for both the delay and the shortness of this chapter. I wanted to get this out as soon as I could after I had a serious bout of writer's block on this story... it sucked. I couldn't write anything over break. Anyway. I'm over it now. Hopefully. There will only be like four or five more chapters in this story, by the way.**

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 8**

Sam was anxious. There was something about the dark storm clouds outside that just didn't sit right with him. It had nothing to do with the slight green tinge to the underbelly of the black thunderheads, which usually meant a tornado was on the rise. Sam had been through several tornadoes in the past and wasn't too worried about that. It was just the sudden appearance of the storm clouds that had him worried.

"You know, you could always call that idjit brother of yours," Bobby said. Sam didn't even have to turn his head from the position on the couch to know that Bobby was standing in the doorway, looking awkward. It was how things had been for the past two weeks since Dean had left.

"He's probably onto the thing, which is why he hasn't called yet," Sam muttered glaring out at the clouds as a roll of thunder rattled the windows.

Dean had called every single day for the past two weeks at exactly 11:00 every morning. It was now three o'clock in the afternoon and Sam hadn't heard from Dean in over two days.

"Sam," Bobby started.

"Dean is fine," Sam said shortly wishing that he hadn't broken his damn leg and lost two weeks of his life. Then Dean wouldn't have had to go on the practically suicidal rescue mission by himself and Sam would know for a fact that his brother was okay.

"You're probably right," Bobby said. "I'm probably just getting senile."

He turned to leave.

"Bobby," Sam said calling him back. "Do you—do you think that something's happened to him?"

Bobby didn't have to say anything—the look on his face said everything. Sam set his jaw and looked away, suddenly wanting to be alone again.

"Sam," Bobby began.

"He's coming back," Sam said stubbornly. "He will be fine."

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to control the sudden burst of anger he had at himself. If he hadn't been so stupid as to drink demon blood, if he had just listened to Dean in the first place… if he had just told Dean about Lucifer. There were so many things tat Sam still wanted to tell Dean, chief among of them that he was sorry for everything he had done. If anything happened to Dean while the older Winchester was away, Sam would never be able to forgive himself.

"I'm going to go to the hardware store," Bobby said. "I will be back in about an hour or so. Give me a call if you hear from Dean."

Sam didn't say anything. He heard Bobby sigh and then walk away. He waited until he heard the front door slam shut before opening his eyes and unclenching his fists. He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

Outside lightning flashed across the sky. Sam had never liked thunderstorms. They always brought back bad memories of being left alone while John went on hunts. Bad things always managed to happen in thunderstorms.

Sam heard the distant ringing of his cell phone from somewhere within the couch cushions. His heart leapt at the noise, more so than he was willing to admit. He dug under the pillows, finally finding the black plastic object.

"Dean?" he asked hopefully, not even bothering to check the idea. Not very many people had this cell phone number anyway.

_"Hey, Sammy,"_ Dean said chuckling slightly. His voice was full of static and the sounds of other cars alerted Sam to the fact that Dean was driving.

"You on your way home?" Sam asked unable to not sound pathetic.

_"Yeah,"_ Dean said. _"Why, you miss me already? I've only been gone two weeks, dude. How you managed to survive _four_ years at Stanford is beyond me."_

"You didn't call," Sam said. "Bobby was worried."

_"Well, you can tell Bobby that I'm fine,"_ Dean said. _"The demons were a bitch to exorcise. Jo kept botching up the first part of the chant. Ellen got knocked out. Teague and Joshua didn't show up once they heard I was there."_

"Bastards," Sam growled. "You're okay, though, right?"

_"I'm fine, Sammy,"_ Dean said. _"Sprained wrist and a couple of bruises, but that's it."_

Sam let out a sigh of relief. It could have been so much worse. Only three people against six demons and one was incompetent.

"Jo and Ellen okay?" he asked as he relaxed into the couch cushions.

_"Yeah, they're going to be fine," _Dean said. _"Though I'll tell you something, I wish I had you out there watching my back."_

Sam was quiet, not sure how to respond. After everything that had happened between them, it seemed strangely pleasant to hear his brother say that.

"I would be there if I could," he said after a while. "Just hurry home, okay? There's a storm moving in."

_"Okay,"_ Dean responded with a chuckle. _"I should be home in about an hour or so."_

Sam was about to respond when there was a heavy pounding on the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: I like this chapter. Not only because it features a lot of a certain six foot four handsome fellow, but I also split this chapter in half so I already have the first of the next chatper written. Which means... amazingly, the next chapter should be up within the next few hours. But only if you guys review!! Hehehe.**

**Author's Note 2: Sorry about the 2 postings of the chapter. I forgot to back over this chapter before I posted it and noticed that the chapter was 2000 something words only because it was repeated twice. Sorry! And I noticed one idiotic mistake... so I fixed it. **

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 9**

Sam was anxious. There was something about the dark storm clouds outside that just didn't sit right with him. It had nothing to do with the slight green tinge to the underbelly of the black thunderheads, which usually meant a tornado was on the rise. Sam had been through several tornadoes in the past and wasn't too worried about that. It was just the sudden appearance of the storm clouds that had him worried.

"You know, you could always call that idjit brother of yours," Bobby said. Sam didn't even have to turn his head from the position on the couch to know that Bobby was standing in the doorway, looking awkward. It was how things had been for the past two weeks since Dean had left.

"He's probably onto the thing, which is why he hasn't called yet," Sam muttered glaring out at the clouds as a roll of thunder rattled the windows.

Dean had called every single day for the past two weeks at exactly 11:00 every morning. It was now three o'clock in the afternoon and Sam hadn't heard from Dean in over two days.

"Sam," Bobby started.

"Dean is fine," Sam said shortly wishing that he hadn't broken his damn leg and lost two weeks of his life. Then Dean wouldn't have had to go on the practically suicidal rescue mission by himself and Sam would know for a fact that his brother was okay.

"You're probably right," Bobby said. "I'm probably just getting senile."

He turned to leave.

"Bobby," Sam said calling him back. "Do you—do you think that something's happened to him?"

Bobby didn't have to say anything—the look on his face said everything. Sam set his jaw and looked away, suddenly wanting to be alone again.

"Sam," Bobby began.

"He's coming back," Sam said stubbornly. "He will be fine."

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to control the sudden burst of anger he had at himself. If he hadn't been so stupid as to drink demon blood, if he had just listened to Dean in the first place… if he had just told Dean about Lucifer. There were so many things tat Sam still wanted to tell Dean, chief among of them that he was sorry for everything he had done. If anything happened to Dean while the older Winchester was away, Sam would never be able to forgive himself.

"I'm going to go to the hardware store," Bobby said. "I will be back in about an hour or so. Give me a call if you hear from Dean."

Sam didn't say anything. He heard Bobby sigh and then walk away. He waited until he heard the front door slam shut before opening his eyes and unclenching his fists. He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

Outside lightning flashed across the sky. Sam had never liked thunderstorms. They always brought back bad memories of being left alone while John went on hunts. Bad things always managed to happen in thunderstorms.

Sam heard the distant ringing of his cell phone from somewhere within the couch cushions. His heart leapt at the noise, more so than he was willing to admit. He dug under the pillows, finally finding the black plastic object.

"Dean?" he asked hopefully, not even bothering to check the id. Not very many people had this cell phone number anyway.

_"Hey, Sammy,"_ Dean said chuckling slightly. His voice was full of static and the sounds of other cars alerted Sam to the fact that Dean was driving.

"You on your way home?" Sam asked unable to not sound pathetic.

_"Yeah,"_ Dean said. _"Why, you miss me already? I've only been gone two weeks, dude. How you managed to survive _four_ years at Stanford is beyond me."_

"You didn't call," Sam said. "Bobby was worried."

_"Well, you can tell Bobby that I'm fine,"_ Dean said. _"The demons were a bitch to exorcise. Jo kept botching up the first part of the chant. Ellen got knocked out. Teague and Joshua didn't show up once they heard I was there."_

"Bastards," Sam growled. "You're okay, though, right?"

_"I'm fine, Sammy,"_ Dean said. _"Sprained wrist and a couple of bruises, but that's it."_

Sam let out a sigh of relief. It could have been so much worse. Only three people against six demons and one was incompetent.

"Jo and Ellen okay?" he asked as he relaxed into the couch cushions.

_"Yeah, they're going to be fine," _Dean said. _"Though I'll tell you something, I wish I had you out there watching my back."_

Sam was quiet, not sure how to respond. After everything that had happened between them, it seemed strangely pleasant to hear his brother say that.

"I would be there if I could," he said after a while. "Just hurry home, okay? There's a storm moving in."

_"Okay,"_ Dean responded with a chuckle. _"I should be home in about an hour or so."_

Sam was about to respond when there was a heavy pounding on the door.

He dropped his phone as the door was blown off its hinges. Bits of wood and metal littered the door way as an all too familiar brown-haired woman strode through the door. Sam didn't even have to see her black eyes to know who it was.

"Ruby," he said through clenched teeth. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He heard Dean's tinny voice coming through the phone, demanding to know what the hell was going on.

"Looking for French fries," Ruby replied with a shrug. "I'm telling you, they are like deep fried crack."

"What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Sam growled.

"Come on, Sammy," Ruby said rolling her eyes. "It's not like it's some big secret. I am here to bring you back to Lucifer. Don't you remember?"

Sam scowled at her, letting his silence answer her question. She smirked.

"I forgot. He messed with your memories before he let you go," Ruby said. "He wanted something to hold over you."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked bemused.

"Lucifer knows you, Sam," Ruby said. "He knows that you will do anything for your brother and for that crack pot old fool you love so much. He knows that you value your memories more than anything else."

"What the hell do you mean?" Sam demanded.

"Lucifer knows you," Ruby repeated. "And that is why you can't remember anything about what happened to you. Lucifer is preventing it."

"What?" Sam asked shocked.

"Lucifer is preventing you from remembering what happened to you," Ruby said looking annoyed that Sam wasn't getting it. "And the only way you can get back those two missing weeks is if you come with me."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: This chapter is shorter than the other chapter and I apologize for that. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to add Sam's POV of the demon attack or not... so I decided to let you decide. I have two versions of the next chapter written. **

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 10**

Dean was exhausted. He had spent most of the night before exorcising demons and avoiding getting killed and most of today on the road, trying to make it back to South Dakota before the huge storm hit. He had seen a weather map when he had stopped for lunch earlier that day and knew that a massive front was moving in on Bobby's salvage yard. He had a bad feeling about this upcoming storm. He couldn't explain it, but something inside of him told him that something really bad was about to happen.

Dean knew that part of his anxiety, if not most of it, was the fact that he hadn't talked to Sam that day. He had completely forgotten to call during lunch to tell Sam that he was on his way home and was now regretting that decision as he heard loud voices on the other end of the line, ones that sounded distinctly like Ruby and Sam. Anything that bitch wanted with his brother was not good.

"SAM! Answer the damn phone!" he shouted.

There was a loud crash, followed by a lot of yelling. Dean's heart stopped when he realized that it was Sam's voice doing most of the yelling.

"SAM!" Dean yelled.

_"Dean?"_

Sam seemed to have found the phone. He sounded exhausted and hurting. Dean pressed his foot harder down on the accelerator.

"What happened?" Dean demanded.

_"Remind me never to trust demons again," _Sam said with the faintest hint of a chuckle in his voice. _"You were right Dean. I don't know why I'm so surprised. You're smarter than I give you credit for."_

"What the hell are you talking about? Sam? What happened?" Dean asked forcing the Impala to go faster.

_"Ruby showed up,"_ Sam said grunting. _"She kind of set Bobby's place on fire after_ _she treated me like a tennis ball."_

"SAM!" Dean shouted. "Are you okay?"

_"I got out of the house,"_ Sam said avoiding the question. _"I should probably call the fire department."_

"Sam. Are you okay?" Dean asked.

Sam sounded out of it, which meant he had a concussion. On top of his previous injuries. _Shit_.

_"I don't know, Dean,"_ Sam said. _"My leg hurts. Head does too, a little. Chest kind of aches, but that's probably because of the smoke. Oh shit."_

"Sam?" Dean demanded.

_"Uh, Dean, you know how I said that Ruby showed up?"_ Sam asked. Dean heard his brother's gulp.

"What's going on?" Dean asked willing a wormhole to magically appear on the road and take him to his brother.

_"She's not the only one here,"_ Sam said. _"I think Meg is here. Possibly a couple of others. I don't know. It's kind of hard to see from where I'm at."_

"Which is where, exactly?" Dean asked unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

Sam was by himself, injured, and surrounded by demons. If Dean wasn't allowed to panic now, when _was_ he allowed to panic?

_"Behind a couple of the stacked cars near the house,"_ Sam said coughing loudly. _"That's not good."_

"Sam?" Dean asked desperately.

_"I think one of them spotted me,"_ Sam said in a shaking voice. _"Crap. Uh, Dean? How far are you from Bobby's?"_

There was an explosion in the background, followed by a low growling sound that Dean knew all too well. You couldn't live in Kansas for the first six years of your life and not know what that sound meant.

"Sam, find cover!" Dean shouted.

_"It's too late for that, Dean,"_ said an all too familiar voice. Dean's blood froze.

"Meg," he said. "Where's Sam?"

_"He's on his way back to Lucifer, now,"_ Meg said with a chuckle. _"I always thought you Winchesters were worth something. Sam's fighting… hmm. That was just pathetic. How you two have ever survived this long on your own, I will never know."_

The low growling sound grew louder until it sounded like a freight train going right past Sam's phone.

There were some high pitched screams, followed by a loud roar and then everything on Sam's end of the phone went deathly quiet.

Dean swore loudly, dropping his phone into the passenger's seat and gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands. He slammed his foot all the way down on the accelerator, feeling an adrenaline rush as the Impala instantly took off like a shot out of a cannon.

The one sole thought on Dean's mind was protecting Sam and outracing the tornado. Anything else was pushed to a distant second. The exhaustion and the aches he was feeling… they were all gone. Sam was the only thing that mattered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: This chapter got away from me. I don't know how... but for some reason, the plot bunnies running around in my head escaped from their confines and went wild on this chapter. The result, a slightly creepy, slightly strange, slightly unrealistic chapter. **

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 10**

Sam forced himself to get up, ignoring the white hot pain from his leg as he forced it to bear his weight. He coughed once, spitting blood into his hand.

"All this pain can end," Ruby said. "The apocalypse, the constant need to prove to others that you are worthy of them… all of it."

"I just need to come with you to Lucifer, right?" Sam asked coughing again. "Fat chance of that happening."

He was once again thrown against the opposite wall. Black spots crowded his vision as Sam fought to see clearly.

"Why are you fighting against this so hard, Sam?" Ruby wanted to know. "This is what you've been training for your whole life. You're Lucifer's vessel, Sammy."

"My name is Sam," Sam replied through clenched teeth. "And I am _not_ Lucifer's vessel."

"You should know better than to run from your destiny," Ruby said. "You know that it will just come back and bite you in the ass."

"You're wrong," Sam said hoarsely. He found himself flying through the air again. He couldn't contain a grunt of pain as he connected with the back of the couch.

"If you don't come willingly, I will take you by force," Ruby said.

"Like that's going to make me say yes to Lucifer," Sam said groaning as he used the couch as a crutch and pulled himself up. He hissed in pain as sharp stabs of pain coursed through him.

"You don't know what you're missing out on," Ruby argued. "You don't know the wonders that Lucifer will provide for you. You think it's going to be hell on Earth, but it's not, Sam! It's going to be paradise!"

"Any paradise for demons is not a place I want to be," Sam retorted. He miraculously didn't crash into the opposite wall of the window this time around. He looked up in shock, hating the way the world spun sharply and he began seeing double of Ruby.

"You're fighting the inevitable," Ruby said. "You won't have a choice."

"I will always have a choice," Sam returned. "And I will always say no. So you can go tell Lucifer that he can kiss my ass for all I care. Because I am never joining you and I am never going to say yes."

"If you don't say yes, then I swear to you, I will kill Dean, Bobby, and everyone you care about," Ruby threatened.

"Demons lie," Sam said. "I may have been a little late in discovering that, but I can thank you for making that lesson stick."

"I never lied to you," Ruby said. "I was the one person who was honest with you!"

"You manipulated me and used me for your own gain," Sam spat. "That is not being honest."

"And what has Dean been doing to you?" Ruby demanded. "Has he been totally honest about why the angels pulled him out of Hell? Was he completely honest about his time in Hell?"

"Dean has nothing to do with this," Sam said through clenched teeth.

"I thought so," Ruby said cockily. "If you come with me, there will be no more lies."

"Excuse me if I have a hard time believing that," Sam growled. "Now get the hell out."

"Sam," Ruby protested.

"Go," Sam said turning away from her.

He should have known better than to turn his back on a demon. He had seen _Lion King_ countless of times—it was one of his favorite movies growing up.

Sam found himself up close and personal with the window right before he crashed through it in a whirlwind of sharp pain and color.

"You never were very bright," Ruby said stepping through the wreckage of the window. "It's a pity that Azazel didn't realize that until now. He could have saved everyone a lot of trouble if he had just killed you in the first place instead of making that deal with that bitch of a woman you call your mother."

Sam grunted as he pulled himself to his feet, shaking violently. Lightning streaked across the sky and thunder boomed. He shivered again.

"I must have been stupid if I had trusted you," he retorted hating that his voice quivered. "I'm not making that mistake any more. If you want to kill Dean and Bobby, then you're going to have to go through me first."

Ruby frowned.

"Well, I guess it isn't beyond Lucifer's abilities to bring you back," she said with a shrug. "If that's the way you want it, then fine."

Sam didn't have time to process what she meant before a small flame crackled into existence right at his feet. He froze—memories of what happened to Jessica and his mother flooding through him.

"Say good-bye to all those you care about," Ruby said serenely. She tossed him something black and plastic. Sam caught it reflexively, unable to tear his eyes away from the flame that was now growing steadily.

Some primal instinct buried in the dark recesses of his mind forced Sam to move, despite the amount of pain he was in, despite the huge thunderstorm going on, and despite the rain pelting him from every direction. His stumbling gait managed to carry him all the way to behind the cars before his injured leg gave way and the pain threatened to consume him.

"SAM!"

It wasn't the voice Sam needed so desperately to hear. It was Ruby's.

Sam came to that realization just as there was a huge crashing noise in the house and the outside of Bobby's well-kept home burst into orange flames. Sam could barely contain a shudder as the cold, wet rain pounded him.

_"SAM?"_

Sam distantly heard his name being called again and was elated to hear Dean's voice. He suddenly remembered that Ruby had tossed him his cell phone (he had been a little side tracked with getting the hell out of the flames until then).

"Dean?" he whispered unable to keep his exhaustion and pain out of his voice. He was unable to keep how much he wanted his brother to come and save him out of his voice.

_"What happened?"_

Sam shuddered again before answering. He didn't understand why he was so damn cold all of a sudden.

"Remind me never to trust demons again," he said with a broken chuckle as he gazed at the burning house. "You were right, Dean. I don't know why I'm so surprised. You're smarter than I give you credit for."

He should have known better than to turn his back on Dean. Sam realized that now. Dean had been the one person from the very beginning who had been there for Sam. Why Sam had ever disbelieved that, he would never understand.

_"What the hell are you talking about? Sam? What happened?"_ Dean demanded frantically.

"Ruby showed up," Sam said knowing that it was a gross understatement. "She kind of set Bobby's place on fire after tossing me around like a tennis ball."

He pulled the phone away from his ear as Dean shouted. A sad smile made it's way onto his lips as he rested his aching head against the cool, wet metal of the scrap metal pile.

"I got out of the house," he said ignoring Dean's inquiry as to whether he was okay. _Bobby's going to be pissed. I burned down his house._ "I should probably call the fire department."

_"Sam? Are you okay?"_

Dean was using his gentle voice, the one he used when Sam was hurt badly. Sam wondered if he was hurt badly. It didn't feel like it. The rain had made him go kind of numb and the thunder was kind of a nice drum roll in the background. He was actually quite comfortable. And a little tired.

"I don't know, Dean," Sam replied honestly. He thought about it for a moment. "My leg hurts. Head does too, a little. Chest kind of aches, but that's probably because of the smoke. Oh shit."

Once again, Sam was going for the gross understatement of the year award. Hell, make it the century.

He could just make out three forms through the rain from where he was hiding. If it weren't for the roaring fire that miraculously was still going on despite the deluge of rain, Sam doubted he would have seen them at all.

_"Sam?"_

Sam forced himself to speak.

"Uh, Dean," he began. "You know how I said that Ruby showed up?"

_"What happened?"_ Dean asked urgently.

"She's not the only one here," Sam said wincing as he drew his injured leg closer to him to make himself smaller and more undetectable. "I think Meg is here. Possibly a couple of others. I don't know. It's kind of hard to see from where I'm at."

_"Which is where, exactly?"_ Dean wanted to know.

Dean was panicking. Sam could tell from his brother's tone of voice that Dean was panicking. Sam didn't blame him. This was like the phone conversation from hell.

"Behind a couple of the stacked cars near the house," Sam said coughing. He swore when he felt hot liquid splatter the back of his hand. "That's not good."

_"Sam?"_

Dean was desperate, panicked, and terrified. All three things Sam could relate with, for he was feeling them at the moment as well. He really wanted his brother.

Sam was about to say something in reply when he spotted movement headed toward him. It was Meg. He didn't know how he knew, but he just happened to know.

"I think one of them spotted me," he said just as the wind picked up and the lightning and rain increased. Hail started to rain down on him, leaving bruises and small scratches in their wake. "Crap. Uh, Dean? How far are you from Bobby's?"

Suddenly, everything went very still for a moment, just long enough for Meg to appear around the corner of the stacked cars with a feral grin on her face. Then, a roar completely unrelated to the dying flames sounded off to Sam's left as the sky split open and unleashed a tornado.

"How nice to see you again," Meg said. "I'm sorry that our visit can't be very long this time."

Sam didn't have any time to wonder what _that_ meant before something hit him in the back of the head and everything went black.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: Okay... so this story wasn't supposed to be as long as it turned out. Don't worry, this is not the last chapter. I still have like three or four more (we have to find out what happened to Bobby after all...). But still. I thought this thing was only going to be a few chapters long because all it was going to be was an excuse for some hurt!Sam and protective!Dean... which it still is, only with some semblence of a plot too. **

**Author's Note 2: Anyway. This chapter switches back and forth between Sam and Dean's point of views. I didn't really want to write two separate chapters depicting what happened to both of them, so this is what happened. Hope you enjoy it. **

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 12**

Or at least, Sam wished everything went black. Instead, things got really fuzzy and jumbled. He could hear Meg talking to someone on Sam's phone and the other person shouting back. It was hard to hear over the howl of the wind as the tornado grew even closer.

Sam could barely see where he was going as he army-crawled his way to some sort of shelter. He knew that it was useless—the tornado would pick up every thing in its path and then proceed to destroy and relocate it, but still, Sam had to try. He wasn't going to let some measly tornado take him, especially not when there were three other demons Hell-bent (literally) on killing Dean and taking Sam to Lucifer.

Shelter came in the form of two piles of junk that had fallen into each other with just enough space for Sam to hole up in. He wasn't sure what would happen if the tornado hit them, but he hoped that that wouldn't happen.

The howl grew impossibly louder until the tornado was only a few feet away from where Sam was hiding. Meg let out a high-pitched scream as she got sucked up into the funnel. Sam knew it was futile to think that that would kill her. It would take a lot more than a tornado to kill a demon.

The tornado seemed to have reached its high point. The roar kept up for nearly ten minutes before dissipating and moving on. During that time, Sam was forced to cover his face and move further backward into his small shelter to keep from getting hit by any random flying car parts.

The moment the tornado left, things went deathly quiet. Lightning and thunder still illuminated the black sky above and rain still pelted Sam from every direction as he cautiously pulled himself out of the confines of his shelter to take a look around. But nothing moved except for Sam.

That was a lie, Sam realized as he balanced himself against the pile of cars that had protected him.

Amongst the rubble of what used to be Singer Salvage Yard, another form was moving. Sam couldn't make out who it was, but he could certainly guess.

_Shit,_ he thought.

Once again, that was a gross understatement. He was injured and weaponless against one demon.

_Make that two,_ he thought as another figure joined the first near the smoldering remains of Bobby's house.

_This is not going to end well,_ he thought darkly.

* * *

Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar turn off to Bobby's place. He wasn't sure what he expected going down the road, but the remains of homes and cars of Bobby's neighbors' wasn't it.

"Shit, Sammy," Dean whispered as he pulled into Bobby's driveway. He could go no further than the first hundred feet because of the amount of debris that had piled up in the driveway. The tornado certainly had done a number on the salvage yard.

Feeling a sense of foreboding, Dean climbed out of the Impala and grabbed some things he deemed necessary, such as his gun loaded with rock salt, Ruby's knife, and a couple of other odds and ends. He made sure to shove the first aid kit into his bag, praying that he wouldn't have to use it and knowing that he would.

He closed the trunk to the Impala gently before setting off into the pouring rain to find his brother.

* * *

Ruby and the third demon that Sam had been unable to identify were the only two demons still in Singer Salvage. Where Meg ended up, Sam didn't care. He just hoped it was somewhere far away and permanent, because if she showed up in the next five minutes, then he might as well sign his own death certificate. Hell, he might as well do that now, he thought as Ruby and the other demon started walking toward him.

Sam had no qualms about dying. In fact, he almost welcomed the possibility if it meant escaping all the pain and suffering he had caused. He knew it was weak, but he couldn't help but feel that the world would be a better place without him.

Even still, that didn't mean he was just going to give up. John and Dean alike had taught him that if he was going to go down, at least take some of them with you. Granted, Sam highly doubted they had the foresight to predict that the youngest Winchester would one day be facing two demons without any weapons in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Sam blamed his slow realization that he _did_ have a weapon on his concussion and exhaustion. He didn't know how well it would work, seeing as the last time he had tried to exorcise a demon with his mind he had started the apocalypse and hadn't exactly practiced since then, but it was worth a shot. He desperately hoped that it would work this time, no matter the consequences.

As Ruby and the other demon drew closer, Sam took a few deep steadying breaths and prepared himself for the blinding pain that would no doubt follow what he was about to do.

* * *

Dean heard the high-pitched screams coming from the west side of what used to be Bobby's house. He instantly broke into a run, knowing that something bad was going to happen.

In the minute and a half it took for Dean to reach the source of the screams, he realized that one of the screams had already disappeared. His heart was in his throat as he rounded the corner of some broken down cars and skidded to a stop.

A tall burly man was unconscious on the muddy ground. His chest was moving up and down at a rapid pace, proving that he wasn't dead. But that wasn't Dean's concern.

Sam was on his knees, one hand wrapped around his stomach and the other thrust out in a manner that Dean recognized with a surge of anger and betrayal. Sam was trying to exorcise a demon. Was he crazy?

It took Dean roughly two seconds to realize all of this and in those two seconds, he had already pulled out Ruby's knife and was charging toward the demon Sam was trying to exorcise. With a start, he realized it was Ruby.

"My, my, it takes two of you to kill me," Ruby said chuckling as Dean pressed her up against the scrap metal. "Why am I not surprised? You both were always so pathetically weak."

"We'll see who the weak one is," Dean growled as he shoved the knife into her chest in an explosion of white energy.

Ruby's face was priceless. Dean wished that he had a camera to capture the expression of shock, surprise, pain, and _lifelessness_ that was visible on her face. She was dead. Gone from the Winchesters' life forever. Dean could hardly contain his glee.

"Dean?"

Dean turned slowly, realizing then that he was completely covered in the bitch's blood and had a sadistic looking knife. Not that it had ever bothered him before, but somehow, it seemed different this time around.

Sam looked too far gone to care. He was shaking heavily, whether it was from the cold or shock, Dean wasn't sure. Blood streamed from his nose and a large gash on his forehead. Dean instantly felt whatever anger he had felt upon seeing Sam attempting to exorcise Ruby with his mind disappear, replaced by a crushing sense of protectiveness. He was by Sam's side instantly.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy," he whispered as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and put around Sam's shoulders. "You're going to be okay."

**

* * *

**

Ding dong the wicked bitch is dead! Time to celebrate by hitting that pretty gray button with green writing!


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: I apologize for the lack of updates as of late. Life happened and time sort of started doing that thing were it passes by much much faster than it was supposed to. It's annoying. Anyway. This chapter isn't amazing and I don't really like the end, but I wanted to post _something_ since I had already updated a chapter of one of my other stories. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Read and review please!**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 13**

Dean wasn't sure how he was going to get Sam from the remains of the salvage yard to the Impala, especially since Sam was barely conscious as it was and the going was tough and muddy. But he was sure of one thing—he needed to get Sam to safety before his little brother died. Again. And that, to Dean, was just not acceptable.

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean said softly wrapping an arm gently around Sam's shoulders and wincing when he felt tiny pinpricks of glass against his arm. He really wanted to bring Ruby back to life to just murder her again. He wasn't sure what exactly she did to his brother, but he knew that that bitch had something to do with the large amount of glass that covered Sam.

"What happened?" Sam whispered leaning heavily on Dean for support. He was limping badly, which forced Dean to remember that his brother shouldn't have been walking in the first place, let alone tramping through mud and over mountainous debris.

"You exorcised the first demon and I killed the bitch," Dean said. "We make a pretty good team, you and I."

"I'm sorry," Sam murmured against Dean's shoulder. "I didn't know how else to protect myself. Didn't want to make you mad, but didn't know what else to do."

It took Dean a minute to understand what Sam was talking about.

"It's okay, Sammy," he said. "You did what you had to do and you did it without that demon blood. I'm proud of you."

"Really?" Sam asked.

Dean was reminded forcefully of a six year old Sam who wanted nothing more than to make his dad and brother proud.

He smiled softly at Sam.

"Yeah, Sammy," he said. "I am. Now if we could continue this chick flick moment somewhere dry, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Sam stopped suddenly. Dean looked at him, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

"Bobby's going to kill me," he muttered. "I burned down his house. He's going to kill me."

"He won't kill you," Dean said. "I won't let him."

"Really?"

How was it that his twenty-five year-old brother managed to look so five years old? It wasn't fair, especially not when Sam's long, soaked hair was in his face and his hazel eyes were wide with shock and exhaustion. He looked absolutely pathetic, and not at all like the man who had let Lucifer free.

"Yeah, Sam," Dean said. "I'm sure as hell not cleaning up your huge mess for you. Nope."

"Sorry," Sam murmured as they started walking again. "I never meant for things to go that far. I just got so blinded with rage that that _bitch_ did those things to you that I just couldn't stop myself before things went too far."

Dean knew that _that_ conversation was a long time coming, but decided that it could wait a little while longer.

"I know you didn't," he said softly.

They had reached the debris pile. Dean stopped for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to get them both over it without causing Sam further injury.

"Just leave me here," Sam murmured. "There's no way I'm going to be able to get over that. You should go. Make sure Bobby's okay."

"Shut it, Sam," Dean growled. "I'm not leaving you behind."

"You should," Sam mumbled, resting his head against Dean's shoulder. "You should have left a long time ago. But you didn't. Why didn't you?"

"Because you're my brother," Dean said shifting his weight a little. Sam let out a small whimper of protest. "Come on, I think I know a way to get us out of here."

* * *

Sam wasn't positive as to how they made it back to the Impala. He was pretty sure that he had blacked out somewhere in between reaching the debris pile and reaching the Impala. He had closed his eyes to blink at one end of the debris pile and the next, he was at the Impala with Dean, who was cussing every known deity. And they knew a lot of deities.

Sam didn't care, though. He was more then grateful to be back at the Impala. The black muscle car offered a sense of safety and security. He leaned up against the cool, slick black metal and sighed as the hard, cold surface eased some of the aches and pains in his body.

"Hang in there, Sammy," Dean said softly as he opened the door to the backseat. "You're going to be okay."

Sam nodded wearily, wanting nothing more than to sleep. He mumbled something incoherent to his own ears and allowed Dean to help him into the backseat of the car. His eyes closed as he rested his head against the cold glass and Dean closed the car door.

* * *

Dean watched Sam carefully from the corner of his eye as he drove, taking in the uneven breathing and the small winces of pain that the younger Winchester thought that he was concealing. Dean wished there was something more he could do for his brother, but knew at the moment it was best to find the nearest hotel and hole up for a while. At least until Sam looked more alive than he did right now.

Blue and red flashing lights caught his attention. Dean swore, pulling over to the side of the road. It was a well-known fact among hunters that the demons had taken over the general public. They could be anyone from the RN at the local hospital to the Vice President of the United States (though Dean was fairly certain that the current President was possessed). It was why Sam hadn't been taken to a hospital the moment Dean and Castiel had found him nearly a month ago.

Dean felt a jolt of surprise as the vehicle to which the lights belonged flashed by him. It was obviously not meant for stopping Dean.

Curious and feeling alarmed, Dean pulled back onto the road. Something wasn't right. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising, a sure sign that he or someone he loved was in danger. As far as Dean could tell, Sam was as fine as he could be given the circumstances and there was no immediate threat.

The thought hit him suddenly as he drove into the more crowded part of town. _Bobby_.

No sooner had Dean thought that did he catch the sight of the car wreck up ahead. An all too familiar blue tow truck was flipped over and glass littered the pavement.

Dean's blood went cold as he spotted a distraught woman leaning up against the side of the truck. It was the missing demon from earlier.

"Meg," Sam whispered from the backseat, confirming Dean's worst fears.

* * *

**Don't ask what happened to Bobby in your reviews. I am not revealing _that_ until the next chapter. Bruhahahahaha. I'm evil.**

**More hurt Sam to come accompanied by some hurt Dean, and some other major kick ass characters. Including a feathery friend who has a habit of popping up when you least expect him.**

**Hope to see you all again before December. Or July. Or April for that matter. **

**~SW223 **


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: I apologize. For everything. The delay in updates, the shortness of updates, world hunger, the world ending, the volcano in Iceland, the earthquake in Alaska... everything. But I do not apologize for the epicness of the latest episodes. I was crying by the end, I was so freaking happy. I'm not going to give any spoilers, but I will say that if you have given up on Sam and Dean, watch the latest episode. You will not be disappointed. I sure as hell (hehe) wasn't.**

**Author's Note 2: I wasn't going to update until this chapter was twice as long... but then, after watching the latest episode, I decided that I absolutely had to update... mostly because I wanted to blabber on about how AWESOME brotherly love is and none of my fellow _Supernatural_ buddies were on Facebook. Yes, it was a tragedy for me, but hey, you get an update!! You will get another update soon... ish. As soon as I have it written at any rate.**

**Author's Note 3: Nothing much (I don't think) happens in this chapter. It's been a while since I've actually read this part... so if it sucks, I apologize. I think it's good. It ends in a somewhat hopeful cliffhanger... but it's still a cliffhanger. **

**Author's Note 4: I hate to give myself deadlines, but I swear to you and me that I will try my hardest to have this finished by June 12th so I can work on a slew of other projects that I want to write for _Supernatural_. That equals me going back through and writing a tag for every single episode ever made.. That might take a while, but I'm looking forward to it. I also have a couple of other fairly decent length projects that I'm sure everyone will enjoy. So. Sit back, relax for a few minutes, and enjoy the ride. Plus, if you want to review, feel free to do so, if only to gush about how awesome the moments between Dean and Sam were in the latest episode. :)**

**Okay. I think that's all I have to say. And I do believe that these authors notes are longer then the actual chapter. Anywho. Enjoy.**

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 14**

Dean watched Sam carefully from the corner of his eye as he drove, taking in the uneven breathing and the small winces of pain that the younger Winchester thought that he was concealing. Dean wished there was something more he could do for his brother, but knew at the moment it was best to find the nearest hotel and hole up for a while. At least until Sam looked more alive than he did right now.

Blue and red flashing lights caught his attention. Dean swore, pulling over to the side of the road. It was a well-known fact among hunters that the demons had taken over the general public. They could be anyone from the RN at the local hospital to the Vice President of the United States (though Dean was fairly certain that the current President was possessed). It was why Sam hadn't been taken to a hospital the moment Dean and Castiel had found him nearly a month ago.

Dean felt a jolt of surprise as the vehicle to which the lights belonged flashed by him. It was obviously not meant for stopping Dean.

Curious and feeling alarmed, Dean pulled back onto the road. Something wasn't right. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising, a sure sign that he or someone he loved was in danger. As far as Dean could tell, Sam was as fine as he could be given the circumstances and there was no immediate threat.

The thought hit him suddenly as he drove into the more crowded part of town. _Bobby_.

No sooner had Dean thought that did he catch the sight of the car wreck up ahead. An all too familiar blue tow truck was flipped over and glass littered the pavement.

Dean's blood went cold as he spotted a distraught woman leaning up against the side of the truck. It was the missing demon from earlier.

"Meg," Sam whispered from the backseat, confirming Dean's worst fears.

* * *

There comes a time in every hunter's life that they must either suck up the pain, no matter how bad, and finish the damned hunt or roll over and die. Unfortunately for Sam, he was not just any hunter, he was a Winchester, and no matter how badly he wanted to just curl up in a ball and sleep until everything was over, he couldn't. Because giving up as definitely _not_ an option. Especially now, when Meg was standing there with an evil grin on her face that was clearly taunting the Winchesters to come and get her. And Sam really wanted to kick some demon ass the good old fashion way.

"Sam."

Dean's frantic voice drew Sam out of his thoughts of vindictive pleasure and back to the present. He looked at Dean, slightly shocked when he saw two of his brother's faces.

_Oh great,_ he thought. _Concussion. Or I'm really drunk… but I don't think that I've had anything to drink in the past twenty-four hours. Or days. Except for that one… I don't know._

"Sam!"

Sam was once again snapped back to the present. He blinked, wincing as he forced his battered body into a sitting position. Dean threw him a look of concern.

"What're we going to do?" Sam asked as he stared out the windshield at Meg's _come and get me_ grin.

"We're going to save Bobby," Dean said, his face set in grim determination. "And we are going to kill that bitch."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_ or any of its characters.**

**Author's Note: Before I apologize for this chapter being late or for this one being the last one or for anything else... I want to stress the main importance of this story. It has been, since the very beginning, a story about brotherly love with a little hurt and comfort thrown in for kicks. Okay, a lot of hurt and comfort thrown in. So keep that in mind as you're reading this. I feel as though this is a very fitting ending for this story because it encompasses all that this story has been standing for. So if it's a little disappointing to all of you who were hoping for more... I'm sorry for that. But. I have enjoyed writing this story and I am kind of sad to see it end. But at the same time, I'm glad, cause that means I have an excuse to start yet another _Supernatural _based story, which I'm really excited about. **

**Author's Note 2: Thank you for everyone who has stuck with this very strange, very random, very pointless journey. It really doesn't have that much of a pay off plot wise, but I feel like it has a huge pay off if you're just looking for some good old brotherly love between Sam and Dean. Cause let's face it, that has been severely lacking since season 3. In my opinion at any rate. **

**Author's Note 3: So I conclude this long, winding journey with a promise of new and better stories coming soon. **

**You Found Me**

**Chapter 15**

Dean wasn't going to admit it to anyone without the influence of heavy alcohol, but he was scared shitless. Not for himself—if he died today, then the world would keep going without him—but for Sam and Bobby and everyone else who had become involved in this insane demon tornado disaster. But he couldn't let on that he was terrified out of his skull and that the mere thought of getting out of the nice, safe Impala and going over there and attempting to kill a demon with a seriously injured brother as his only back up and trying to save someone who could very well be _dead_ was a little daunting. Even to Dean Winchester.

It was like one of those old Mexican stand-offs. Dean, supporting a very concussed Sam, was standing at one side of the street holding a gun and a knife between them, and Meg looking just a little pissed off was standing on the other with a sadistic grin on her face. All that was missing were the tumble weeds, the sombreros, and the spurs.

Time seemed to stand still for the three, who were locked in an epic stare down. Well, Dean and Meg were. Sam's eyes were kind of drooping. But that was beside the point.

"It ends now, boys," Meg said. "This is it."

"Funny," Sam muttered. "I always thought that things were supposed to end when Lucifer and Michael got into it and we were standing there watching them, waiting to see which one killed each other first… and then things would end."

Dean smirked.

"Well, you know us, things never go the way they're supposed to."

"Touché. Should we try that logic now?"

"I'll fire the gun, you go for Bobby."

"Dude, I'm barely standing up as it is right now. How about I fire the damn gun and you go get Bobby?"

"How about I fire the gun and then you go back to the Impala and then I go get Bobby?"

"How about you both shut up and let me kill you already?"

"Sam? Do you feel like dying today?"

"No, not really. I'm getting used to this whole living thing. I kind've want to keep doing it."

"I was hoping you'd say that. Here."

Before Sam was really fully conscious of what his brother was doing, Dean was shoving the demonic knife into his hands and pushing Sam toward Meg while the older Winchester ran toward Bobby. Which, in Sam's opinion, was very stupid seeing as the younger Winchester could hardly keep his eyes open, he was so damn tired.

Meg had a look of faint surprise on her face as Sam got it together enough to point the knife at her chest and stab downward. She smirked and Sam suddenly found himself flying through the air. Again.

"Why the hell does this always happen to me?" he growled as he pushed himself into a standing position, groaning in pain.

"Sammy, Sammy, _Sammy_," Meg said, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. "Haven't you learned by now how hard it is to kill me? I mean seriously! How many times have you boys tried and _failed_? There was that first time with the daevas, which has been my favorite so far. And then there was that time with that feathery douche bag, which was cute, but not very effective."

"And how many times have you tried to kill _me_ and failed?" Sam demanded. "Oh , that's _right_. Every. Single. Damn. Time."

Meg's smirk faded into a dark scowl.

"You know, if you hadn't been so messed up in the head, we could have been _friends. _Or even something else," she said, taking a step closer and putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. He hissed in pain.

"But now," Meg said, leaning closer and taking a fist full of Sam's shirt. "I want to see you _bleed_. I want to see you suffer for all of the things you have done to my family. And I want to be the one to do them to you."

"Too bad your pal Lucifer has other plans for me," Sam smirked.

Meg punched him in the face. He let out a grunt of pain, wondering where the hell his brother was.

"Lucifer will forgive me," Meg said. "After all, he hasn't learned what a pain the _ass_ you and your brother have been to me and the rest of us. He will actually _thank me_."

"I doubt that," Sam scoffed, spitting out a tooth and a wad of blood. "I think Lucifer wants me very much alive. Pain in the ass and all. And I've heard he really isn't the forgiving type. I mean, look at what he did when his father told him that he wasn't perfect."

Meg snarled and wrapped a hand around Sam's throat.

"You're filthy scum," she hissed, tightening her grip. Sam feebly fought back against her, trying to get enough force to stab her with the knife and failing epically. "You're weak. You're pathetic."

"And I'm the one Lucifer wants alive," Sam gasped. "Not you. He's never even so much as cared about any of you demons, has he?"

Meg screamed and threw Sam across the road. He landed against the Impala with a heavy thud. Stars danced across his vision as he tried to get up and failed.

Meg approached him like a lion approaching its prey.

"I'm going to kill you, Samuel Winchester," she said. "I don't care what Lucifer does to me. You are going to die a very painful death."

"Then do it," Sam whispered, spitting out more blood. "If you're so bent on killing me, then do it already. Because quite frankly, I'm sick of this cat and mouse game."

Meg's response was a scream of agony. Sam stared in blank surprise as her host crackled with white energy and then fell to the ground, staring up at the sky with lifeless eyes.

Sam looked up, his mouth falling open as he saw Castiel standing in his customary trench coat with a bloodied sword in his hand, looking very much like an avenging angel. For the first time since Sam had met him, he respected the angel.

"Cass?"

"I am sorry it had to come to this," Castiel said gravely. "If I had known the outcome of my brothers' actions, then I would have stopped this long ago."

Sam stared at the angel in shock.

"I am sorry," Castiel said again.

"SAM?"

Sam relaxed at the sound of his brother's voice.

"Over here," he called weakly, wincing at how rough his voice sounded.

Sam blinked, realizing just how much the scene around him had changed since the whole encounter with Meg had begun. He had somehow ended up in the opposite side of the Impala, laying in a puddle of mud and quite possibly blood. A tree had fallen on one side of the car, just missing the giant black beast. The rainstorm had finally abated and the clouds were clearing, revealing that it was finally night. There were a ground of people a few feet away, ones that Sam had a funny feeling were angels.

"You have nothing to fear anymore tonight," Castiel said. "Heaven will leave you alone until you've had time to recover."

"Thank you," Sam whispered.

"You have proved to be a greater asset to us then we first thought," Castiel said. "We are beginning to realize how wrong we were about the apocalypse."

"It's about damn time," Sam muttered.

"Sam?"

Dean sounded out of breath, but otherwise okay as he came around the front of the Impala. With a flurry of wings, Castiel was gone before Dean saw him.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, feeling suddenly very, very tired. And hungry.

"You okay?" Dean asked, crouching down in the mud beside Sam, who struggled to get into a sitting position.

"Not really," Sam admitted. "But I think I will be. How's Bobby?"

"He's fine," Dean answered. "He sent me to find you. Was worried. Can't imagine why. It's not as though you don't get yourself nearly killed on a daily basis."

"Sorry," Sam whispered, leaning his muddy head against Dean's shoulder.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam," Dean grunted as he shifted himself into a sitting position and put a hand on Sam's head. "You're running fever."

"Huh. That would explain why I feel like shit," Sam murmured.

"Couldn't possibly be the fact that you've been through hell these past few months," Dean said sarcastically.

"That might have something to do with it," Sam mumbled. "I'm tired Dean."

"I know, Sammy."

"No, I'm not just that kind of tired. I'm tired of all of this."

"What's all of this?"

"Being Hell's bitch. Lying to everyone. Not knowing what's right and what's wrong. Not knowing exactly what happened to me, but knowing enough to know that what did was really bad."

"You have a concussion."

"I'm tired of that too."

Dean let out a sad chuckle and wrapped an arm gently around Sam's shoulders. Sam rested his head against the door of the Impala and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean said. "I can't promise that Hell and Heaven aren't going to try to use you. I can't promise that you're going to remember everything that happened to you during those two weeks. I can't promise that you want to know what happened to you during those weeks. And I can't say that you're never going to do anything stupid again, cause you probably are."

It was Sam's turn to laugh sadly. He winced and wrapped his good arm around his chest as the motion sent a shockwave of pain through his torso.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean said again. "And you want to know why?"

"Why?" Sam whispered, his eyes half closed against the pain.

"Cause you have one hell of a brother looking out for you," Dean said, smiling slightly. "And we're Winchesters. We're way too pretty to die. … for good."

Sam smiled, his eyes falling all the way close. The last thing he was aware of before he lost consciousness was Dean whispering his name and then everything went black.


End file.
